


Betrayal

by Sheeana



Category: Dune Series - Frank Herbert
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 17:50:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2820947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheeana/pseuds/Sheeana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Jessica is sent to Caladan for the first time, she has a conversation with Reverend Mother Mohiam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Betrayal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [akamine_chan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akamine_chan/gifts).



>   
> _The Lady Jessica made a choice, and that single choice reverberated across time itself. Long after all those who now live are dead and scattered like dust among the stars, their children, and their children's children, and a thousand generations of children who come after will live with the consequences of what Jessica's choice has wrought upon the universe. Some call it the greatest crime ever committed - others are unwavering in their adoration. Such a vast legacy for such a small thing._
> 
> -from "The Origins of Muad'dib" by the Princess Irulan

\---

The halls in the central Bene Gesserit spaceport on Wallach IX are rectangular and unremarkable, empty of furnishings and decorations and devoid of color. The Reverend Mothers' footsteps never echo in the resounding silence; the walls and floors are made of a strong sound-dampening material imported from offworld. It is a functional space, nothing more.

Jessica kneels on the gray floor beneath the soft white lights. Her dress is simple, black and straight-cut, its high collar stiff behind her neck. Her skirts are arranged neatly around her ankles while she waits to be dismissed and then escorted to the heighliner. Every muscle of her body is relaxed, yet ready to move at the smallest moment's notice. Everything in its place.

When she senses that she is no longer alone, she lifts her gaze from the floor. Her eyes follow the Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam's black robe up from where it brushes the floor to its wide sleeves and finally to Mohiam's bared face. She waits for the Reverend Mother to speak. It isn't patience that motivates her. The Bene Gesserit have no need for patience. What must happen will be made to happen. Nothing else is important. Everything in its time.

She bows her head as the Reverend Mother touches her temple with the pad of her thumb. They're alone in the corridor, the other Reverend Mothers and their servants departed. For all that this occasion represents, only one woman will see Jessica off. In the beginning, it would have seemed strange to her, but she has discarded so much of what she once was.

"You will go to Duke Leto Atreides, and you will bear his daughter," the Reverend Mother pronounces, like an omen. This is ceremony more than anything else. Jessica already has her instructions. The Bene Gesserit leave nothing to chance. There are no doubts as to what is expected of her. Every detail has been imprinted on her. She knows what she is – a tool, to be used until her use is expended. Every Reverend Mother and every person who has ever served the Bene Gesserit knows the same. The exactness of the breeding program requires nothing less.

"I will go, Mother," she says, unflinching and unafraid. She has learned every lesson, passed every test, and endured agony beyond description to be burdened with this duty. In this moment, perhaps for the first time, she thinks she feels the weight of generations upon generations of Bene Gesserit efforts, resting not lightly on her shoulders. She lowers her gaze as if succumbing to it. When the Reverend Mother speaks again, she keeps her eyes respectfully at the hem of her robe.

"Now. Have you any final questions? Speak up, child. Now is not the time for reticence."

"I know my duty, Mother."

"That is not the question that I asked." Even now, when Jessica is no longer a student and Mohiam is no longer her teacher, her tone holds the same cold, unyielding sternness as the first day Jessica came to the Bene Gesserit school and knelt before her. Beneath small turns of Mohiam's mouth and occasionally open scowls, Jessica learned to control her actions and her mind.

Yet even now, she falters. Hesitates where hesitation is forbidden. It's gone in a moment, but not a moment so short that the Reverend Mother could fail to notice. She straightens her back her shoulders. Then she lifts her chin to meet the Reverend Mother's eyes, salvaging what she can from her brief failure.

"After I've borne his daughter," she says carefully. She has spent years learning the weight of words, how to say much without saying anything at all. How to ask without asking, and answer without answering. How to reveal only as much as she wishes to be known. She learned, but she could learn for a hundred years and never come close to achieving the Reverend Mother's command of her tongue. Lords and emperors tremble before Mohiam. They try to hide it, but Bene Gesserit training reveals even more than most men suspect. Sometimes Jessica thinks about what they might do if they knew how their suspicions paled before the truth.

"Then you may do as you please," Mohiam replies, after a weighty silence. "Stay with him. Guide your daughter. Guide him, if you choose. When your duty is done, then he is only a man, and you, only a woman. But be warned, Jessica. You must bear him no sons. Give him what he wishes, but never a son. You know this."

"Yes, Mother."

"There is only one imperative. You must have a daughter. She will be the beginning of the culmination of all that we have worked for. This, we entrust to you." It must not be pride that Jessica hears inflected in Mohiam's voice. Mohiam never takes pride in her students' efforts.

"I will not fail you," she swears, with a fervency that surprises her. She believes in the Bene Gesserit ideals – she must, or else why would she be here? She believes, but never with the unfailing faith of some who have undergone the training. A duty assigned is a task to be accomplished, not a belief to be held.

She thinks, for a moment, that her zeal produces a flicker of emotion in the Reverend Mother's eyes. If it ever exists at all, it's gone before it becomes anything substantial.

Jessica rises to her feet. Her is head bowed once more, her eyes on the dark panels of the floor, her hands folded in front of her. When she arrives on Caladan, she will change her clothes and unbind her hair. Black robes are no use for catching a Duke's eye. She remembers again her instructions: there will be many who question her motives. Many who will never trust a woman trained by the Bene Gesserit, no matter how she proves her loyalty to the Duke. She must give him everything he desires, be everything he wants. Anything less, and everything she has toiled years to accomplish, everything the Bene Gesserit have worked for, will be undone.

\---

Many years later, as she watches her son growing into a man, Jessica thinks back to this conversation and wonders if she should name herself a traitor. She suspects the Bene Gesserit have named her much worse than that, for her single act of unraveling.

If she is a traitor, she wonders what exactly she betrayed.


End file.
